


Angel With A Shotgun

by Azazel



Series: If Wishes Were Wings (Then Maybe We Could Fly Away) [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Violence, Rough Oral Sex, Underage Sex, mention of possible Bruce/Tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4396238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azazel/pseuds/Azazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim tracks Jason to his new hideout. The confrontation does not go as expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel With A Shotgun

Inside the warehouse the air feels stale and if he didn’t know better Tim might think the building was empty. But he _does_ know better. It took weeks of research and hunting to find this particular hidey-hole. Red Hood is thorough when it comes to his own security. Of course, there are few enough people who would make it a point to seek him out in the first place, and for good reason. Tim has no illusions about finding his predecessor in a welcoming mood. Especially after the way their previous meetings have gone. 

But none of that matters now. What does matter is Red Hood – no – Jason, is alive and back in Gotham. Where he belongs. Even though he isn’t the same. From what little Bruce has been willing to share about the former Robin, Jason was always more aggressive, angrier than either Dick or Tim. And it seems The Pit not only served to bring him back from the grave, it also fed his brutality. Though, that could have been the time he spent with the League of Shadows after his return. Or a combination of both. Tim is stalling, staring around the darkened space like some shadow is suddenly going to coalesce into Jason. 

As though the thought alone conjures him, Jason's voice rings out across the warehouse and, try as he might, Tim can’t locate the source.

“What are you doing here, Replacement? Come to see if I’ll finish the job?” 

Tim stands stock still, barely breathing, as he tries to feel Jason’s location. 

“Or do you enjoy punishment? You must, you _chose_ this life.”

Nothing moves, not even a rat. Tim shifts his weight slightly, moving into a loose ready stance. He knows this tactic. It’s one of Bruce’s after all. Between one heart beat and the next Jason is behind him, grabbing his shoulders and slamming his forehead into the back of Tim’s skull. Tim collapses to his knees with an involuntary grunt. Spots are firing across Tim’s vision when Jason grabs a fistful of his hair with his left hand and yanks Tim’s head back. The red helmet covering Jason’s face gives nothing away. Tim is still trying to convince his body to follow his commands when Jason presses the muzzle of a Beretta Px4 Storm to the middle of his forehead. 

“Why. Are. You. Here?” The tightly controlled growl is clear in Jason’s voice. 

A wave of nausea makes Tim think he may have a mild concussion, but that could also be fear. Pushing the feeling aside he tries for the low, easy tone he has witnessed Bruce use with people on ledges, “I want to help.”

Jason uses the grip on Tim’s hair to shake him a little, “Help? Oh, Replacement, I think you’ve helped enough, don’t you?” Twisting his fingers tighter he lets a bit of anger color his tone. “You helped yourself to my suit. My family. My _life_. If you ‘help’ any more I’ll be in a hole in the ground again.” Tim’s reflexes barely manage to save him from a face-full of concrete when Jason shoves him forward. Blinking slowly Tim pushes himself back up to his knees and watches Jason pace around him in a tight circle. 

Tim can’t help but focus on the gun when Jason stops in front of him, tapping it against his thigh. Jason is close enough that Tim has to tilt his head back to look him in the eye as he says, “So once more, with feeling, why are you here?”

“You were Robin. You belong with u-” Jason doesn’t let Tim finish, lashing out with the butt of his pistol, splitting Tim’s right cheek open and sending him crashing to his side on the floor. His cape slithers over cement and Kevlar as Tim rights himself. Jason is still, staring down at him like he hadn’t moved at all. 

“Try again.”

Blood drips from Tim’s chin as he puts as much steel in his voice as he can, “You belong with us. I want to bring you home.”

There is a strange sense of surreality when Jason tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. There is also what sounds like genuine confusion when he says, “Home?” Quick as a blink he grabs Tim’s collar and hauls him to his feet. “I never had a home.” In one fluid move he takes a small step back, releases Tim and delivers a solid kick to his sternum. Tim stumbles backward, allowing his knees to buckle and the momentum to carry him through a roll so he lands in a low crouch. Jason stalks toward him through the gloom. Tim tracks him with his eyes but doesn’t move to stand. The cut on his cheek is swelling, impeding his vision slightly. 

“I know you saw that coming so what I can’t figure out is why you didn’t dodge it.”

Tim shakes his head minutely, “I didn’t come here to fight. I came to help, how ever I can.”

Jason watches Tim silently for long moments. Tim takes a somewhat shaky breath when he hears the safety click on Jason’s pistol before he holsters it. “How ever you can.” 

Tim can’t see it but he can imagine the sharp, cruel smirk on Jason’s face. He nods once, not taking his eyes off the slits in the helmet. Jason steps close enough that his boots touch Tim’s knees then reaches for his belt buckle. Tim clenches his jaw tightly. Using his left hand Jason reaches into his boxer briefs and pulls out his limp cock. He buries his right hand in the hair at the base if Tim’s skull, pulling until Tim is all but kissing his foreskin. 

“Well, what are you waiting for, _Robin_?”

Tim takes a deep breath through his nose then opens his mouth and curls his tongue around the head of Jason’s cock, slipping it between his lips. Jason grunts, “I see you’re no stranger to sucking cock. Bruce must be up to his old tricks.” Tim narrows his eyes but continues to work his mouth over the rapidly swelling flesh. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. I was already a bit of a pro when he found me but I’m not ashamed to admit he taught me a few things.” Jason starts to rock his hips, pushing and pulling against Tim’s lips in shallow thrusts. Tim slides his tongue between foreskin and glans, pressing the tip into the slit. Jason hums low in his throat and fists his left hand into Tim’s hair beside his right. 

“I think it goes without saying but just in case, if you bite me I’ll break more than your jaw.” 

Even though he can’t really be sure, Tim is positive Jason is watching him so he watches Jason. When he starts to suck, Jason’s shoulders twitch. Trying to keep a steady breathing pattern seems useless since Jason’s movements are so random, leaving Tim no choice but to breathe when Jason allows it. 

“Does he like that you just settle in and take it?” As if to illustrate, Jason yanks Tim’s hair until his lips are pressed to the coarse curls at the base of his cock. Jason makes a sound like he’s been punched when Tim’s throat spasms around him. Tim blinks hard behind his own mask as he fights his body’s instinctive desire to pull away. Jason huffs and grinds his pubic bone against Tim’s chin before pulling away just enough to allow Tim a quick breath then shoving back in. Jason grips Tim’s hair tighter as he fucks Tim’s throat. 

“You’re better at this than some of the whores I know,” Jason pants. “Then again you’re just a different kind of whore aren’t you? A high-class escort, that’s you. Just another pretty, young thing to hang off his arm.” Jason’s hips move in fast, tight thrusts, keeping as much of his cock in Tim’s mouth as possible. 

Tim’s hands twitch at his sides until he grabs the material of Jason’s pants and holds on. The dizziness and nausea are getting worse the longer he goes without breath. As if he could read Tim’s thoughts Jason pulls out, tearing his right hand out of Tim’s hair and wrapping it around his cock. Tim coughs and gasps, lungs burning and head spinning, as Jason jacks himself hard and fast. The first jet of cum splashes the cut on Tim’s cheek. The next lands on the left lens of his mask and he can’t quite suppress the flinch. By the time Jason is finished there is cum smeared across both of Tim’s cheeks and the left side of his Domino. It feels like he tried to swallow glass or perhaps gargled with acid. 

Jason tucks himself back into his underwear, closes his pants and buckles his belt while Tim ruthlessly brings his breathing under control. Tim knows his scalp is going to be sore for days when Jason finally releases him. Reaching down Jason cups Tim’s jaw, pressing his thumb into the blood-and-cum covered cut. Tim shudders but otherwise doesn’t react. 

“Get out and I don’t want to catch you sneakin’ around after me again,” Jason rumbles and shoves Tim away. Tim staggers to his feet, shrugging his cape back into place. The knees of his uniform are filthy. 

“I will find a way to help you, Jason.”

“If you don’t want a bullet hole somewhere important you better leave. Now.”

Tim doesn’t move for a few heart beats then he turns and disappears into the shadows.

**Author's Note:**

> VERY loosely inspired by [this vid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlZQi5_1gSI) and the song of the same name. Specifically the lyrics
> 
> “They say before you start a war,  
> You better know what you're fighting for.  
> Well baby, you are all that I adore,  
> If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.”


End file.
